


On Wings of Steel

by 26_Combo



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6583108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/26_Combo/pseuds/26_Combo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: They say he has golden locks that drape over his broad shoulders along with a rough and worn face. He was garbed in a tattered and beaten cloak, said to be colored red with the blood of his enemies. But the one thing that stood out above all was his metal arm and leg, believed to be granted to him by the devil himself as a reward for cheating death one too many times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Salutations! This idea had been writing itself in my head for quite some time, so I decided to give it a bit of attention XD
> 
> This story takes place in a completely different AU that has nothing to do with Amestris. Most of the characters' relationships to each other are the farthest thing from canonical, so you've been warned :) The world contains elements of the Mad Max movies, fantasy, and a bit of steampunk so its definetely a unique mix that manifested in my imagination.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, it would mean the world to me if I can put a smile on your face!

The world wasn't like it used to be; nothing resembled the old. It was a harsh and inhospitable place that bred pain and suppression, a world where only the strong survived and the weak kneeled to the corrupt government - because if there was one thing a person learned at a young age, it was that there are three kinds of people: the masters at the table, the dogs who begged, and the rats that stole what crumbs they could find.

Within those three, however, lied another breed of human beings: outlaws.

And amongst the outlaws there was one of legend, a man never to mess around with. They say he's got golden locks that drape over his broad shoulders, and a rough and worn face that boasts a single large scar over his right cheek. He was garbed in a tattered and beaten cloak, said to be colored red with the blood of his enemies. He was unforgiving and unforgetting, and he never missed his target. But the one thing that stood out above all was his metal arm and leg, said to be granted to him by the devil himself as a reward for cheating death one too many times.

His name?

No one knows, no one wants to. The only thing he's known by is Fullmetal, the man that rides on wings of steel.

~On Wings of Steel~

"Pick your poison," invited the bartender as he dried a beer glass, the dirty rag squeaking in unison.

The diner was a run down, oval building, with a retro look that consisted of chrome trimming on the outside and a checkered floor with 50's diner décor inside. It was in the middle of a wasteland with nothing around for miles, and was respectively called "North of Nowhere." The place was a humble diner/bar that had an old-school quality to it, the jukebox always playing old songs as the checkered tile aged and cracked with time.

"Something hard," the blond-locked man grunted, resting his hands on the counter.

The bartender nodded and reached for a bottle of liquor, popping off the top and pouring it into a shot glass. "Hardest shit we have, you an outlaw?" he asked.

The customer didn't reply as he pulled up the long sleeve of his crimson coat, revealing a large gash on his left arm. Without a flinch or any grunt of pain, he poured the alcohol on his wound.

"How'd you get that?" the diner owner inquired while he shook his head and retrieved the glass. He chuckled to himself, "Never mind, it's better I don't know."

The red-coated customer rolled his sleeve back down before eyeing the bartender again.

"Do you have milk?"

Caught off guard, the bartender simply reached into a beat up fridge and revealed a glass bottle of milk.

"That your poison?" he asked as he handed it over.

The blond took the bottle and poured himself a shot of it, pressing the glass to his dry lips as he whipped his head back. "Damn I hate this shit," he muttered just loud enough to be heard.

"Milk? You're defiantly odd," laughed the owner as he scooped up the now-milky glass, walking over to rinse it under the sink. "Heard about the latest victim of the government?"

All he received was silence and a curious look.

"Well," the bartender continued, "I heard they found some rich kid who knew how to perform alchemy. Sent the boor bastard straight to the Capitol. His parent's were supposed to be real dicks, shipping him off to preserve their good name."

"Sounds about right," replied the customer.

Suddenly the song that was playing began to skip, repeating the same line over and over again.

"Been meaning to fix that damned thing, annoys the hell out of me when it happens," the diner owner muttered irritably.

The customer grinned and slapped the counter with his hands, his right one making an audible metal clang.

"Thanks for the drink," he said.

"Which one?" asked the bartender. "The one you poured over your arm, or the damn milk?"

The outlaw hid his subtle smile, remaining silent while he clapped his hands together before placing one on the repeating jukebox.

"There, consider that my payment."

A lighting-like aura surrounded the jukebox as the mysterious man walked out of the restaurant, the song now playing perfectly as the jukebox was made brand new.

"Hey, thanks. Was that...?" the bar owner shook his head and returned to cleaning glasses, a grin forming on his lips. "Don't see that every day," he mused to himself.

Outside, the red-cloaked man took a deep breath as the door shut behind him. The old diner was surrounded by desert in every direction, the wasteland traveling for miles on end. The sky was a clear and vibrant blue that held several large moons and the giant planet known as Saturn. The moons were much larger than normal, the craters as large as a regular sized moon. Saturn, however, was even larger; only half the planet able too be seen at any given time. The other half is constantly hidden by the horizon. Its ring cut across the fantasy-like sky, paving a path of the space debris and asteroids that built it.

The wind began to blow as the blond outlaw trotted down the rotten, wooden stairs and eyed a motorcycle. It was made of bare sheet metal with rust covering most of the body, and it had a chopper ride to it and a banged up plate on the back that read "Fullmetal." With a satisfactory grin the man sat down on the worn leather seat, tracing an etching of angel wings on the gas tank with his finger. Under the engraving was a simple saying: "On wings of steel I ride."

With a turn of a key the motorcycle started up with a loud rumble, the engine idling and loping in a low and ear vibrating tone. He twisted the throttle and slowly took off into the vast, empty wasteland.

On he rode, his tattered and ripped coat flapping in the wind as he drove without caution or restraint. His blonde hair ruffled as he continued through the wasteland, an ammo belt vibrating against his chest while he gripped a shotgun that sat in a mounted holster on the side of his bike. He would ride with the moons to his back and the massive planet in front of him for most of the day, his spiked, steel-toed boots tapping a rhythm on the running board. He had a mission, a job to do that would pay for his next several meals. It was of course, illegal, but then again nothing about the Fullmetal was government approved.

~On Wings of Steel~

"Sir!" saluted several soldiers as a high ranking soldier passed them and made his way through the hall. He was garbed in a faded blue military uniform that had used to be a brilliant shade of blue, but now was worn down after years of service.

"I've got the bastard this time," he stated to the lieutenant at his side, a big grin gracing his face. "That Fullmetal won't get away - not today."

"Sir," his blonde lieutenant spoke up, trying to keep her pace up with her eager superior. "Are you sure you have him this time? I mean, you've been hunting him for years."

The black-haired man paused and looked her over as she stared back at him.

"Damn right I do," he said confidently. "One of my trusted sources just revealed that he's on his way to a government arms warehouse in the eastern district. It's all wasteland out there, so it's a perfect place to store munitions. He can't run, not this time - not even Fullmetal can hide in the middle of nowhere."

"Sir!" agreed the lieutenant as they kept on walking. Their pace quickened before they eventually reached a car that awaited them outside the Capitol building, a large building where all the high ranking government officials resided to maintain their corrupt rule over the country. The grand yet old building lies within an empty city, all of its residents having been kicked out long ago. Their homes and businesses got turned into store houses and supply rooms, making the once lively place an active military base. Ever since being forced to move, the ex-residents found refuge in the slums and other types of living. The rich, however, were granted exclusive living quarters within the Capitol walls.

"I'll drive," said the high ranking man as he got in the car, gripping the steering wheel as he waited for his lieutenant to join him.

"Mustang," the blonde lieutenant addressed now that they were alone. "You sure you don't want any backup?"

The car started and took off, revealing the answer to her question.

"No, Hawkeye, this son of a bitch is all mine," the man called Mustang stated, determination laced in his voice.

Hawkeye watched as he drove with fire in his eye; his left eye was covered by an eye patch, and she realized that the man before her was determined to catch the Fullmetal at all costs. It had been his life goal ever since the outlaw had made himself known.

"And what happens when you catch him, sir?"

Mustang grinned and kept his eyes fixed on the road, the gas pedal slowly growing closer to the floorboard.

"I'm going to put a bullet in his damn skull."

~On Wings of Steel~

The loud motorcycle came to a stop, the engine ceasing as its rider observed his target. In front of him were three tall, rectangular connected buildings that used to serve as apartments long ago. Now the building cluster rests in the middle of nowhere. Inside the middle of the three buildings was an arms warehouse that the government kept secret. To your average passerby it would seem like a long forgotten memory, but to an outlaw it was a perfect cash store of weapons.

With a sigh, Fullmetal arose from his bike and grabbed the shotgun out of its holster.

"Let's just get this done and over with," he muttered to himself.

The blond left the bike and made his way to the crumbling buildings. Upon reaching the front door of the apartment he flicked the shotgun up with one hand, pulling the trigger and blowing away the doorknob. The outlaw then proceeded to kick the door down, alerting the soldiers inside of his presence.

"Hey! What the hell do you think your doing?!" exclaimed the surprised guards. They were quickly silenced, however, with a spray of shotgun shells that drowned out their screams. The crimson-coated man observed his surroundings, following the faint voice that came from upstairs. After ascending the decayed staircase, Fullmetal looked around and kicked in a door that was partially open.

"This is arms house number twelve out In the eastern district, we're under att-," the soldier on the radio was quickly stopped with a round to his back.

"Sorry pal, but I don't need your friends coming around," Fullmetal chuckled as he shot up the radios and receivers that were scattered around the room. The shot gun wielder then opened the barrel of his modified shotgun and loaded several more shells, whipping the barrel back in place before exiting.

"Now where would you keep a store of weapons?" he asked himself as he exited the radio room and looked around. There was no way that the guns would be down stairs - it's far too accessible to intruders like him. No, they'd make him climb upstairs. But he was upstairs, so where would they be? It wasn't in the room behind him - that was the radio station. And by the looks of it, there were only two more doors left in the small building, so it had to be one of them.

With a sigh the outlaw crossed the narrow hallway and kicked in the first door on his right, finding a cowardice soldier huddling in the corner.

"P-please don't kill me, I heard the commotion down stairs and I didn't want to die, honest," the soldier pleaded.

The shotgun wielder laughed and pointed the double barrel in his face. "Then tell me where the stores are," he demanded.

The cowering soldier shook his head and flinched, covering his face with his hands. "I-I can't! That would be treason, and the government would do terrible things if they found-," a loud bang suddenly shut the babbling man up.

"Simply hiding is treason enough for them," the outlaw said angrily.

Fullmetal exited the room and looked to his right, eyeing the last door upstairs. His heavy steel-toed boots clunked on the wooden floor as he approached the ajar door, kicking it in and raising his gun to meet yet another face. But this time it wasn't a soldier, it was a young boy.

"What the hell?" the outlaw paused, slowly lowering his gun in bewilderment. In front of him sat a small boy that couldn't be any older than ten years old. He had short, brownish-blonde hair, with golden eyes that stared back in fear. The kid was dressed in a red, faded and dirty hoodie with jeans and well worn sneakers.

"H-hello mister," the boy greeted. Fullmetal stared at him a moment longer before rubbing his forehead.

"What the hell is a kid like you doing here?" he questioned.

"Well," the brownish blonde began, "I was taken by soldiers. They caught me and forced me to come here so they could transfer me to the Capitol."

The red coated outlaw shook his head and looked around, noticing that there were no guns.

"Listen kid, where do they keep the guns here?"

The small kid froze, unsure of what to say.

"I don't have time for this!" exclaimed Fullmetal as he raised the shotgun to meet the boy's eyes. "Spit it out kid, I don't have all day."

The golden-eyed boy gulped and jumped up, running over to the back wall of the room. He grabbed the horizontal chair railing on the wall, rotating it until it was vertical, inevitably creating a door handle. The kid then tugged and pulled on the newly created leverage point until the wall began to open like a sliding glass door, revealing rows of guns on weapon racks along with a duffel bag.

"H-here. I've s-seen them open it before," the younger of the two quickly stuttered.

"That's a good boy," Fullmetal complimented as he reached for the bag that was hidden within the stash, pulling guns off their racks and stuffing them in it.

"That should do it."

The outlaw lifted the bag onto his shoulder, proceeding the leave the room.

"Wait!" the boy suddenly cried, stopping the blonde-locked man. "C-can I come with you?"

Fullmetal slowly turned around and looked at the young kid with a mix of confusion and annoyance. After a minute he answered,

"No, I need to get going and I ride alone. I don't need some brat to look after."

Before he could leave, however, a siren was heard outside.

"Fullmetal!" cried a man's voice over a megaphone. "I know you're in there you asshole. Come out or I'll come in!"

The outlaw walked back into the room and glanced out the window. There was no need for it, though; he could tell who it was simply by that annoying voice.

"Now how the hell did this bastard know I was here?" he grunted through gritted teeth.

"You can take him, right?" encouraged the boy. "I mean, you took out all these other soldiers. Can't you kill one more guy?"

Fullmetal grinned and shook his head. "No kid, this bastard is different. He's not your average man... he can control the fires of hell."

The golden-eyed kid gulped and stood on his tiptoes to look out the window, curiosity swelling up inside of him.

"What's your name kid?" the outlaw asked.

The boy finished peering out the window and looked up at the rough and intimidating man before him.

"I'm Alphonse," he answered with a small smile.

"Well then, Alphonse," the outlaw smiled back, "You're going to help me get out of here."


	2. Chapter 2

"What the hell is he doing?" observed a concerned Hawkeye, glancing over to her superior, who was barricaded behind the open car door.

"He's wanting out of here," was the reply.

In the doorway of the crumbling apartment stood Fullmetal with a shot gun to Al's head, a smirk painted on his face. On the opposite end was Roy behind the open car door, his gun and head visible through the window. Riza had her gun out as well, crouched down behind Mustang.

"You're not getting out of here, Fullmetal!" yelled the soldier, his single eye burning with the desire of bloodshed.

Fullmetal grinned and descended the small stairs, pressing the barrel of the gun deeper into the back of the boy's head. There was no way he was going to be killed by that eye patched freak. Not today.

"You'll let me go, Mustang," hissed the blond, adding emphasized disgust to his enemy's name. "Or the kid dies."

"Sir," addressed the lieutenant worriedly. "We can't let him kill an innocent child."

Roy smirked confidently and kept his hand gun pointed at the red cloaked man.

"You won't kill him! You can't!" he cried back.

"The hell I can't!" responded the blond angrily, taking a few steps closer to the armed car.

Mustang laughed to himself,

"You won't though! If you do I'll have no more reserve for putting lead in your damn skull!"

The outlaw fell silent for a moment, his confidence in his plan fading slightly. Mustang was right - if he did kill Al, he would have no more leverage. So what was the point? The point was that he wasn't alone, Alphonse would help him get out of there.

"So, no back up Mr. officer? No one wanted to aid you in your endeavor?" mocked the red coated blond, attempting to get inside the soldier's head. Mustang simply scoffed at him, however.

"I came here on my own, scum, because I wanted the privilege of killing you myself."

Offender and defender entered a stare down, one gun aimed at Fullmetal and one at Alphonse, both ready pull the trigger at any given moment.

"Listen kid," Fullmetal whispered after a few minutes, an idea sparking suddenly in his head. "I want you to run to them."

"What?" was the boy's confused response.

"I want you to run over and join them."

"What about you?" Al questioned, showing a bit of concern for his captor.

"I'll be fine, trust me."

Alphonse sighed and nodded, taking off and running towards the car. It was as if it all happened in slow motion; Al took off towards the soldiers, causing Mustang to waver for a moment. As the boy ran, Roy decided to hold any gunfire to ensure Al's safe arrival, inevitably giving the Fullmetal a small window of opportunity. The outlaw took advantage of it and clapped his hands together, slamming them into the ground as an alchemic aura surrounded the contact point. Before anyone could react, a wall of earth raised up and separated the red-coated blond and the solider.

"Damn!" yelled Mustang, lowering his gun as soon as the wall obscured his vision of the outlaw. "Don't let him get away!"

The black haired man reacted quickly, jumping in the car and slamming the door as he mashed the gas petal.

"Sir, wait!" cried Hawkeye as the car sped off without her, kicking up dust in her face while she watched the tail lights speed away. Her attention was then brought to the red-hoodied boy standing next to her.

"Are you okay?" she asked between coughs, looking over at him.

"Yeah, I'm alright," Al replied. A small grin grew on his face when he heard the sound of a motorcycle engine start up.

Meanwhile, Roy rounded the Earth wall only to find the Fullmetal on his bike, popping a wheelie as he took off.

"You're not getting away, asshole," Mustang grunted to himself as he sped up, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

The rusted and outlawish bike sped away with the red cloaked figure in its saddle. Fullmetal still gripped his shotgun, cocking it and looking back as he aimed for the trailing car.

"Lead in my skull?" he mused to himself as he squeezed the trigger, sending a spray of shells towards the car.

"Shit!" cried Roy to himself as he swerved out of the way. He grunted and instinctively reached for the handgun on the seat next to him, a smirk growing on his face.

"Two can play at that."

Fullmetal reached the end of the wall, whipping around its corner as Hawkeye and Al came into view. Right behind him, however, was Mustang in his car. A few shots rang out as Roy shot through the windshield, shattering the glass while hoping to hit the rider.

"You'll have to do better than that!" yelled the blond on the motorcycle, reaching back and firing another round out of his shotgun. This time the spray connected to the front of the car.

"Move!" yelled Hawkeye as she scooped Al up in her arms, running away and barley dodging the oncoming vehicles. "What the hell are they thinking?!"

The outlaw twisted his wrist all the way, fully opening up the motorcycle's throttle. The engine grew louder as he increased his speed, Hawkeye and Al shrinking behind him.

"Sorry kid, but I've gotta go," he thought to himself, recalling Al's wish to join him.

Fullmetal was pulled from his thoughts as a bullet grazed his metal arm, the sound ringing off as it ricocheted.

"Shit...,"

If he were to look back, he would find a smirking officer trailing close behind with a gun aimed right at him. Fullmetal began swerving from side to side in an attempt to throw off Mustang's aim, switching patterns often as to keep the soldier guessing - a technique he learned many years ago.

"Nice try, outlaw," Roy smirked to himself as he aimed in a straight line instead of following the swerving bike with his gun, years of experience coming into play. His finger squeezed the trigger as the bullet launched off, connecting to the rear fender of the bike.

"Damn," the Fullmetal grunted, reaching into his flapping ammo belt to retrieve several more shotgun shells. As he rode on, he flicked open the barrel with one hand, sliding the shells into place as he snapped it back.

"Screw you asshole!"

And with that, the blond turned back and fired several rounds straight into the car's radiator, causing water to spray everywhere.

"No, no, no! Shit! Dammit!" cursed Mustang as the car began to overheat, its cooling system now damaged beyond repair. The engine soon died, leaving the car to coast to a stop. The officer could be seen pounding the steering wheel in a fit of rage as the bike sped away.

Fullmetal laughed victoriously to himself, turning around and passing the dead car and frustrated officer, Hawkeye and Al slowly growing closer on the horizon.

"Hey! Hey!" cried Alphonse, waving his hands in the air as the outlaw drew closer.

"What are you doing?" scolded Riza, wondering where her superior was.

"Hey! Mr. outlaw!" Al cried again, the bike much closer this time.

"Stop that!" commanded the lieutenant, holding his arms down. Al looked frustrated by it. "We're taking you back to the Capitol."

"No!" the boy shouted with fear laced in his voice, desperately trying to squirm his way out of her hold. "I'm not going! I don't wanna!"

Fullmetal slowed down at the sight of the commotion, passing the two slowly as he made eye contact with Al.

"Sorry kid," he thought to himself.

The outlaw returned his eyes to the empty wasteland ahead of him, speeding up a little bit.

"No! Don't go! Please!" Alphonse screamed as he heard the engine grow louder, signaling that Fullmetal was speeding up. The boy furiously began wiggling, successfully breaking free of his captor's grasp and sprinting off after the bike.

"Slow down! Stop!" he frantically cried as the red coated man grew farther away. Al kept on shouting, running as fast as his little legs would carry him.

"Please!" he yelled again, his throat becoming dry from the shouting and the dust. Tears began to stream down his cheeks, flying off his face and into the wind as he ran on. He ignored the burning in his chest and the aching in his legs, his sights focused solely on the outlaw - because he couldn't be alone... not again.

"Don't leave me!"

The blond man looked back, frowning when he saw the red-hoodied boy running after him. He couldn't take a kid, he told himself, he rode solo. There was no way he would babysit a stupid brat. But as fate would have it, Alphonse's cries and pleas rode on the wind until they reached his ears.

"I cant...,"

The outlaw went to speed up, but before he could twist the accelerator something inside of him changed. He felt something he hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

Compassion...

"Dammit kid...,"

Fullmetal hit the brakes, the chopper coming to a stop as the engine idled. Why the hell was he stopping? What made him care?

Alphonse picked up his pace as soon as he noticed the bike growing closer, a hopeful smile growing on his face. It wasn't long before the boy was panting and huffing beside it.

"What are you doing kid?" the outlaw asked.

Al huffed and wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Th-thanks f-for s-s-stopping, mister," the boy panted. "C-can I come with you?"

The outlaw shook his head and observed the kid that stood before him.

"Why would I want you?" he questioned.

Alphonse stood up straighter and took a deep breath, now able to respond without panting.

"Well," he began confidently, "I can fight, I've used a gun before, I'm loyal, and I can follow directions. I can keep a secret and I'm really tough."

Fullmetal would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly impressed by the ten-year-old's courage and guts, chasing after an outlaw and asking to ride along, even aftera shotgun was held to his head.

"That's quite a resume," teased the outlaw.

"What's a resume?" the boy questioned back innocently.

The rider shook his head, a very subtle smile forming on his lips.

"Hop on before I change my mind," he demanded, his voice lacking any patience.

"Ok! Uh, I mean... yes sir!" Alphonse fumbled, hopping onto the seat behind the driver, a large grin plastered on his face.

"Hold on."

The outlaw hit the gas, popping a wheelie as they took off. Why a wheelie? Maybe it was his style, or maybe he enjoyed it... or maybe it was to impress Alphonse. He wasn't quite sure.

"How do you know where to go out here?" the boy yelled over the rushing wind, referencing the vast wasteland.

"The moons and Saturn," was the answer.

"How does that help?" Al questioned further.

Fullmetal sighed; he wasn't in the mood for a curious mind.

"Saturn is north, the moons are south. From there I can build a compass."

The boy nodded to himself, observing the several large moons in front of them. "So, we're heading south?" he guessed.

"Yup."

"How long will it take?"

"As long as it will take."

"That's not really an answer...,"

"You know, you're extra weight. I can just kick you off so I can go faster."

"No! Its okay, really!"

They fell silent for a while, Al's arms wrapped around Fullmetal's torso as he noticed the moons in the sky slowly fade away as night time began to settle in.

There was no sun on the planet, the daylight being a result of the reflection of the several moons in the sky. You really couldn't tell the difference between the moonlight and sunlight because of the many moons; the main difference being that the moonlight was much softer on the eyes. As the moons followed their path across the sky, their light eventually dimmed; resulting in what we could call nighttime. In other words, the moons rose and set just like a sun; day and night determined by the amount of light reflected off their surface.

"So, what's you're name? I'm Alphonse by the way."

Fullmetal kept his gaze forward. "You already told me your name."

"Oh, right," Al recalled. "So... what's your name?"

"I don't have a name."

"You don't have any name?"

"No, people call me Fullmetal."

"Why do they call you that?"

The outlaw shrugged carelessly.

"I guess because of my arm and leg," he answered while he rolled up his right sleeve, revealing a metal arm.

"Woah! That's cool!" Al exclaimed, childish fascination evident on his face.

"Eh, it can come in handy."

Fullmetal rolled his sleeve back down. "But most people view it as a curse."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Well I think it's cool. Can I have one?"

The red-coated man shook his head.

"You don't want one, trust me."

"But you just said it came in handy."

The outlaw fell silent, not indulging into the boy's curiosity. But Al wasn't finished yet.

"So, what is your name?"

"I told you, it's Fullmetal."

"No, I mean the name you were born with."

"Never told anyone."

"Why not?"

"Because."

Al sighed and let his head droop in defeat; there was no way to unlock the vault within the outlaw.

"Your not very good at conversing...," he complained.

Silence.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere."

"Where is somewhere?"

Fullmetal sighed, exasperated. "My hideout."

"Hideout?" Al exclaimed with reinvigorated excitement. "Is it cool?"

"I guess."

"Does it have a bunch of guns? And guard dogs? And laser traps? And pit falls? And spikes? Is it hidden?"

The red-coated outlaw took a deep breath. "Yes, no, no, no, sort of."

"So what are you going to do with the guns?"

"Sell them."

"Why not keep them?"

"Because I have all the guns I need."

"Do you have a lot?"

"No."

"How many?"

"One."

The outlaw patted the shot gun that rested in its make shift holster.

"Just one?" Al frowned, slightly disappointed.

"Yep, that's all I need. It only takes one bullet to kill, no more and no less."

Alphonse nodded, "Yeah, I guess. But it would be cooler if you had more."

The duo kept on riding into the wasteland, the temperature dropping as night time fell. The moons began to disappear as the reflected light dimmed, stars littering the entire sky. It really was a beautiful sight as the sky changed from a vibrant blue to black and dark purple.

The outlaw felt a head rest on his back as the boy drifted off to sleep, his grip loosening as he dozed. On they rode under the starry sky, the bike leaving a trail of dust in the vast wasteland.

They were but a single speck in a sea of nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... WHABAM! chapter 2! XD
> 
> This chapter had been brooding inside my head for awhile, so it all just flooded out my fingertips when I got to type it. I really hope you enjoyed it, I put this one through the editing wringer :)
> 
> Also! I want to thank everyone who favorite, followed, and or reviewed. I mean seriously. You're amazing. Its you guys who put a smile on my face; well you and good food XD haha! 
> 
> Anyways, I would love to hear your thoughts on the story and stay tuned for chapter three because I've already written it! You know, in my head.


	3. Chapter 3

Light flickered in and out as darkness became light, then back to darkness again.

"W-where am I?" wondered Alphonse, sitting up and noticing the ripped and worn couch he was laying on. Right away the boy realized that he was in a garage, the giveaway being the concrete flooring, the tool boxes, and the big garage door. Inside the garage there was a ripped and well worn sofa, a beaten and battered reclining chair, and a coffee table in between the two. In the corner laid an old and stained fridge with a crooked door, nearby was the familiar motorcycle he had been riding on.

"You're awake." a gruff, older voice spoke.

"Where are we?" Al asked, his curiosity and sense of adventure flaring up again once he remembered what had happened.

"My hideout." the outlaw replied, using his metal digit to pry the lid off his bottle of beer.

"But this is a garage?" the boy observed with obvious disappointment. He had clearly been expecting something more exciting.

The red coated man shrugged carelessly and sat down in the recliner, taking a sip from his bottle of beer.

"If you don't like it, don't stay." he bluntly offered.

Alphonse shook his head and adjusted his position on the sofa. "Nah, Its cool. I could get used to it."

The outlaw chuckled and pressed the cool glass to his lips again. "Who said you're staying?"

the red hoodie boy smiled. "I thought we were partners, you know, buddies now."

Fullmetal grinned behind his golden-locks, slightly amused by the boys assumption.

"We're not buddies." he confirmed.

Al shrugged his shoulders and smirked. "Then why'd you save me?"

The outlaw took another sip of beer. "You've got a lot of balls for being a kid."

Alphonse stood up and stretched, looking around at his options of entertainment.

"Anything fun around here?"

Fullmetal watched as the boy began to explore the garage, looking for anything to occupy his ten-year-old attention span.

"Just tools and a radio." the outlaw replied.

Al sighed and observed the duffle bag of guns, looking back to the red coated man. "When's the deal going down?"

Fullmetal once again chuckled at Al, amused by how much older he was trying to act.

"The deal?" the outlaw questioned, even though he knew what was being asked.

"Yeah, you know, the deal. When do you sell the guns?"

"None of your business."

"Sure it is." Al replied.

The outlaw sighed and eyed the young boy before him. "And how the hell is it your damn business?"

Alphonse smiled and took a seat on the sofa, looking back at the Fullmetal with fire in his eyes.

"I see it like this," the boy began. "You'll want me, its better if we can both put the pressure on whoever is buying the weapons. I mean, if we play good cop and bad cop we'll be able to sell them for more."

The outlaw was truly amused by the plan that Al was creating, especially the fact that he was so into it.

"And who'll be the bad cop and good cop?"

Al grinned, excited that he was being indulged.

"I can play the bad cop, I'm really good at it. And you'll be the good cop. You can try to sell it to them for a set price, and I'll get mean and say we should sell them for more; you know, the maniac tactic."

Fullmetal couldn't help but chuckle, sitting up to continue his amusement. "The maniac tactic?" he asked. It was obviously a name Alphonse had assigned to his idea.

"Yeah," Al shrugged casually. "You know, make em' think one of us is a maniac. Kind of like a scare tactic."

"And you'll be the maniac?"

Alphonse nodded. "Yup, I figured since I've pretty much perfected it I should be the one. Besides, you're too blunt and boring to be a maniac."

A grin graced the face of the outlaw. "You've done this before?"

Al leaned back and crossed his leg, stretching out his arms and resting them on the head of the couch. "Yeah, you know, I've done this like... a lot. I'm pretty much a professional at it. You'll defiantly want me in on the action."

Fullmetal nodded slowly and leaned back into his chair, examining the kid that sat in front of him.

"So you think it would work?" the outlaw asked, not believing a single word Al had said so far.

"Yeah, I think it would." Al responded with a business man attitude.

"No." The outlaw said, standing up and finally cutting off the conversation, believing it to be ridiculous from the start.

"What do you mean no?" Al exclaimed, shocked at the decision.

"I mean you're not coming with me."

"But you just said-,"

"I didn't say anything."

Alphonse got up and followed the outlaw to his motorcycle. "You have to take me!"

"No means no, quite wining." the blonde grunted and eyed the boy. "Stay here, I have to take a piss."

Fullmetal sighed and walked outside and out of view, relieving himself before returning to his bike.

"Man..." Al muttered to himself as he waited for the outlaw to return, dropping his shoulders and sighing.

"Okay..." the red coated man addressed, fiddling with his zipper as he reappeared. "I have to head out, you just stay put; got it?"

Al frowned. He knew arguing would get him no where. "Whatever..."

The outlaw smiled and sat down on the bike, inserting the key into the keyhole. "Now I should be back before it gets dark, so don't get into trouble or do anything stupid."

He started the bike and twisted the throttle.

"I wouldn't do anything stupid." Al denied, keeping his hands behind his back.

Fullmetal grinned, "Yeah, you would." and with that he took off, exiting the open garage door an speeding off, leaving Alphonse to occupy himself. As soon as the outlaw vanished out of sight, a grin formed on the boy's face as the bike took off down the cracked and worn road leaving tire tracks on the asphalt.

"I wont do anything stupid. Just a little target practice for fun." the mischievous boy revealed a hand gun that he had swiped from the duffle bag, his grin growing even larger.

~On Wings of Steel~

"What's our losses?" demanded Roy with irritation in his voice. He and Riza had made it back to the Capitol thanks to emergency E-VAC, and no one dared to give him a hard time about it. The black haired man was now back at his desk, addressing the soldier that kept logs of the raided warehouse.

"W-well Sir," the shaky soldier replied. "The outlaw managed to steal out entire store of weapons, consisting of three AK-47's... two M4's... four 9mm's... and a couple of .44's." he listed off.

"Anything on the boy?" Mustang demanded.

"Y-yes sir! According to several eye witnesses and a couple of reports, the boy in the red hoodie is an alchemy prodigy that has been evading us for quite some time. He tends to use his alchemy to help the poor."

Roy huffed and waved away the soldier before he snapped, leaning back in his char while fiddling with a pencil; his mind deep in thought.

"Sir." Hawkeye spoke up, standing next to him the entire time. "Do we have any ideas on where this outlaw has been hiding?"

Roy sighed and glanced over to her, disgusted at the man called Fullmetal.

"No damn clue... I have a hunch that he's been camping out in an abandoned gas station to the south... But it doesn't matter, he wont get caught in his own home. If I'm to catch him, no, kill him... I'm going to have to be less predictable."

Riza nodded and observed her pissed off superior, trying to think of different angles to aid in his endeavor.

"Sir, how about the boy?"

"What about him?"

"Well," Hawkeye began. "He took him for a reason, it might be his one weakness."

Mustang sat up and nodded, a slight grin gracing his lips. "You might have a point there. He cant be a shadow if he has a kid on his back."

Riza hid a smile, satisfied at her suggestion. She had great admiration for the man before her, and if she could help in any way then she would be glad to do so.

"Do you think he'll keep the guns?" she prompted.

"No," Roy replied. "He'll sell them. The only gun that bastard uses is that damned shot gun. And my hunch is that he's gonna sell them to the resistance fighters."

"Why them?" Hawkeye questioned.

"Why not? If he sells the guns to the resistance fighters it'll only keep us off his back. We cant chase him down if we're too busy fighting the rebels. "

Riza nodded, "Well then, what's our next move?"

The black haired superior grinned and stood up, grabbing his ignition gloves as the chair swiveling around as he exited the room. "Its all a game, nothing more than chess." he replied. "Its time to put the gloves back on."

~On Wings of Steel~

The bike came to a stop, the engine dying as its rider turned the key. He had followed the old road until he reached a small town just outside of the Capitol. In fact you could see the massive Capitol walls that were erected to keep people out. With a deep breath Fullmetal stood up, adjusting the heavy bag that was slung over his shoulder. This was the meeting place, an alley that was situated between two large building that were falling apart. What the decaying buildings used to be no one knew, but he and the resistance fighters used them as a meeting place.

"Ah, Fullmetal." A voice echoed between the narrow walls, a man appearing at the other end of the alley. "I'm glad you showed."

He wasn't quite as tall as Fullmetal, and not near as muscular. The buyer had a leather jacket and ripped jeans with worn out sneakers, his short dark hair messy and unkempt.

"You doubted I would?" the outlaw replied, walking down the alley with the bag of guns.

"Nah, never. You always come through for us."

the two came face to face as they eyed each other with anticipation.

"Is that all of them?"

The red coated man dropped the bag, nodding as he stretched his sore shoulder. "Yup, three AK-47's, two M4's, four 9mm's, and three .44's."

The recipient smiled and knelt down, unzipping the bag.

"You got what I wanted?" Fullmetal demanded.

"Yeah, its right over there." He pointed to a dumpster in the alley.

The outlaw walked on over, lifting the lid to reveal a small toolbox. He yanked it out and set it down, opening the lid to reveal a variety of tools that were hard to come by.

"Good, I'll be using these in my shop." he mentioned, closing the toolbox and walking back over to the buyer. "Anything else?"

The rebel chuckled and shook his head. "This some kind of joke?"

The red coated man ruffled his eyebrows, glancing from the buyer to the bag of guns. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" the rebel picked up a 9mm and waved it around. "There's only three of them. You trying to pull something here?"

Fullmetal's face went blank as he knelt down and sifted thought the bag. There were only three.

"Listen, I don't know what happened to it; but it was in here when I left."

"You sure about that? outlaw?" the buyer hissed, clearly upset at the whole deal. "Because I don't like being screwed around with."

"Look, its only one gun. Let me just-,"

"No! Its not just one gun. If I let this slide, then every low life piece of shit trying to sell us guns will think its ok to pull one over. And then do you know what we loose? Guns, money, and respect."

The blonde ran his fingers though his hair, trying to think of an answer.

"So what are we going to do about it, outlaw?"

Silence fell over the alley as tension built, both parties irritated.

"Look, I can get you another gun. I'm not screwing you over, I've been honest in every other deal. Let me make it up."

The rebel flashed a wicked grin, raising the 9mm to the outlaw's head.

"I have every two bit worthless scumbag wanting to join this rebellion against the Capitol, and there are plenty of outlaws out there willing to do anything for a buck. But you? I cant let even a single asshole rip us off, or every bastard and his brother will think they can take advantage of us."

Fullmetal stared into the man's eye, not flinching at the threatening gun.

"Just calm down, alright." he attempted, trying to calm down the maniac that shoved a gun to his face. "Lets just talk it out."

"Talk?" the buyer mocked. "Talking gets no one anywhere. Its action and fear that people respond to, that people respect. And you know better than anyone, Fullmetal, that reputation is the one thing that makes a man great in this hell hole."

The outlaw stared into the barrel of the gun, not a single drop of fear showing.

"And what about your reputation," Fullmetal jabbed. "Is it great? Or is it as pathetic as you?"

The rebel smirked and cocked his head, staring down the Fullmetal as a single shot rang out, echoing though out the alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, chapter three! I hope you enjoyed it, I actually had, like, three different ideas for this chapter battling to be written. But, as you can tell, this one won XD
> 
> I know it was kinda short, believe me, I had ALOT more written. But then a thought came to me... Why not end on a cliffhanger? So BAM! that's what I decided; sorry :)
> 
> As always, thanks so much for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. They really make me smile! 
> 
> Anyways, stay tuned for the next chapter! I best get to writing it before my ideas become bored and decide to leave. You know, because they can do that.


	4. Chapter 4

The gunshot echoed out, its sound dissipating as smoke arose from the barrel of the gun. The bullet had missed its mark, leaving the shooter with furrowed brows and a bit of a temperament.

"Dammit!" cried Alphonse, who was glaring daggers at the makeshift target he had concocted out of some duct tape. His aim wasn't quite what he thought it was.

"Stupid recoil...," the boy sighed and observed his "score". He had managed to empty the clip and the wall around the target was now full of holes - all except one, that is, but that bullet resided on the outer most ring.

Al sighed again and put the gun down on the coffee table, unconcerned about the wall he had just shot up. He slowly walked over to the open garage door with his hands deep in the pockets of his red and worn hoodie. He couldn't help but stare at the large planet that always rested on the vibrant blue horizon, watching and trying to pick out the individual space debris that formed its ring. It was relaxing, he supposed, but his mind still wandered into future hopes and painful memories.

"I want a bike like that one day...," he finally concluded to himself after noticing the tire tacks still somewhat fresh on the asphalt, his ten-year-old mind jumping from topic to topic faster than heat stroke in a desert.

"But I would make a few changes, I think. Or... maybe not. I supposes it's cool as it is. But I would definitely have a cooler hide out. Yeah... one with lasers and traps."

The boy chuckled to himself as he pictured the perfect "secret base" that would keep him safe from the bad guys. A place where he could hide from all the hurt and pain of this world. A place where he could choose who came into his life, people who wouldn't cause heartache. A safe house where he could try to forget the past and hope for the future. And maybe that same place... maybe he could one day call it home, too.

"One day," he whispered to himself as he stared longingly into the sky. "I'll be safe."

~On Wings of Steel~

The rebel who was about to buy the guns had a petrified stare on his face, his hand slowly dropping the gun as thick, red blood pooled out of his mouth. To his utter surprise Fullmetal's auto mail fist had gone straight through his stomach and out his back. The outlaw had managed to barley avoid the close-ranged shot.

"D-damn you...," was the only thing he could mutter before death swiftly over took him, his body dropping to the ground as it slid off the metal arm.

Without a word the blond outlaw stared down at his dead enemy, flexing his metal digits to ensure that they still worked after blood and internals seeped into every mechanical nook and cranny. Despite escaping death yet another time, he was far from getting out of there.

A pair of hands began to clap.

"Well, well...!" a voice echoed throughout the alley, using a taunting and sarcastic tone. However, Fullmetal wasn't surprised - he had anticipated hidden eyes on the whole deal since he'd arrived here.

"We didn't need him anyways, so thanks for doing the dirty work for me," the voice spoke again.

The red-cloaked outlaw calmly looked about him, trying to find the origin of the voice. It wasn't long before a lean and tall man walked into view. He had short, black, spiky hair and a sharp-toothed grin. He wore small, round sunglasses and a black vest with fur around the neck as well as black leather pants, but most of features were hidden in the darkness.

"So, who are you?" Fullmetal asked, the shadows still covering the mysterious man. Despite it being daytime, the position of the several moons cast a large shadow over the alleyway, allowing a person to hide from even the best of eyes.

"Me?" the stranger grinned while asking, fully stepping out of the shadows to reveal his entire self to the outlaw. "Well, now there's a question."

The man slowly walked towards the blonde, his sharp teeth still grinning wickedly.

"You see, no one knows my real name... kind of like you, Fullmetal," he began. "But the one thing everyone knows about me is that I want this entire world! I want money, women, status, fame... I want this damned government gone so that I can have it all! Some may say it's bad, some may say it's good. But the fact is, everyone wants something they don't have - and I want the finer things in life!"

The man paused and lowered his small round sunglasses to look Fullmetal in the eyes.

"They call me Greed, and I'm the leader of the Rebellion."

The red-coated blonde stared him down, clearly unamused by the entire show of theatrics.

"Greed? A little ambitious of you to claim that as your name, don't you think? Everyone wants something they don't have, especially in this world. So what makes you so special?"

Greed grinned again and shrugged, returning his glasses to his eyes.

"Because I actually get what I want."

"And you're the one that's leading the Rebellion against the government?"

"That's right," the spikey-haired man replied.

"And what exactly is it that you want, Greed?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" the blonde repeated.

"Everything, including you."

Fullmetal gave a small laugh, "Sorry, but I'm taken."

"Ha-ha," Greed laughed humorlessly, passing Fullmetal as be began to walk over to the outlawish bike that sat at the end of the alley way. "You're quite the smart ass aren't you?"

The blonde watched while the rebellion leader walked by, approaching his motorcycle with ill intentions.

"You know, Fullmetal, you have quite a reputation among the Rebels here. They say you're the only one who's ever figured out how to cheat death out of his own game. So tell me: how is it that you've lived as long as you have?"

The blond remained silent, watching as the spikey-haired man ran his index finger over the curves of the bike while he talked.

"Surely you have a secret? I mean, we all do. Right?" Greed asked.

Fullmetal grinned and shook his head, folding his arms over his chest.

"What are you getting at?" the outlaw demanded.

"What I'm trying to say is this:" Greed said, pulling out a knife that was hidden away in his belt and twirling it around. He then dug the blade into the metal of the motorcycle,

"I want you dead. I want to give death the thing he's been chasing after for so long; you," he finished, his blade leaving deep grooves in Fullmetal's ride.

"And how exactly does that benefit you?" the blond questioned. Greed chuckled,

"Because - if I can kill the legendary Fullmetal, then my place at the top of this world will be secure. I mean, who would deny the man who has killed the unkillable? Who slayed a legend!"

Fullmetal chuckled to himself. Whether it was out of humor or disbelief he couldn't tell, but somehow all this was amusing.

"You didn't want the guns, did you Greed?" he stated more than asked.

Another sharp toothed grin was flashed.

"No, I didn't. Your services were appreciated... but you've become a threat."

"And you're not here by accident," the red-coat stated.

"Exactly."

Greed suddenly threw the knife at the outlaw, its blade and handle spinning over one another in quick successions. Fullmetal whipped his metal hand up, deflecting the knife. Greed vaulted over the motorcycle and ran towards the blond, his fist successfully connecting to the outlaw's face. Fullmetal stammered backwards before catching himself, offering a blow of his own. Greed, however, nimbly dodged it and landed a blow to the outlaw's stomach.

"Damn, he's quick!" the outlaw thought, slightly caught off guard.

Greed pulled two more knives from his belt, quickly swinging them at his target. Fullmetal dodged and deflected them with his automail arm, slowly walking backwards towards his bike as he blocked deadly blows.

"What's wrong outlaw? Not fast enough?" the Rebel leader mocked, continuing to swing his blades at him.

The blond steadily kept up his defense, continuing to move backwards in the direction of his motorcycle.

"Well, you're clearly not fast enough," the outlaw shot back.

As he excepted, Greed grew a little hot headed and wavered in his technique, allowing Fullmetal to land a blow to his face. Before Greed could recover, the blond quickly disarmed him. Fullmetal grinned and ran towards the bike, vaulting over it as he pulled his shot gun from it's holster.

"Where do you think you're going?!" Greed shouted as he pulled another set of fighting knives from his belt, chucking them both at the outlaw with raging vigor.

"You can't hide behind that piece of shit!" he mocked again, grabbing yet another set of knives that were hidden on him.

Fullmetal's answer was a spray of shotgun shells that barley missed their target. He ducked behind the bike and quickly began to reload. Greed recovered and was about to make his way to the bike, but another shot came from the outlaw.

"Damn you!" Greed cried, narrowly dodging the last shot.

The blond reappeared, his gun resting on the seat as he fired another round. All Greed could do was dance and avoid the spray of shells. Fullmetal's head appeared once more, his gun ready to fire. But before he could, Greed threw his knives and grabbed two more from his belt.

"Shit!" Fullmetal ducked in time to keep his head. "How many knives does this bastard have?!"

Staying behind cover, the red-coated blond blind fired in the general direction of his enemy, unfortunately to no avail.

"Haha!" Greed cried as he ran towards the bike, jumping over it and landing in a squat as he came face to face with his target. There was no way he would give that damn outlaw a chance to reload again. His eyes, however, quickly widened when a shot gun barrel was shoved into his face.

"Don't, or I'll blow your head off asshole."

Greed flashed a grin and dropped his pair of fighting knives, standing up while raising his hands.

"You got me," he admitted, the grin still on his face.

The outlaw stood up and eyed the man before him. "Now give me one reason not to kill you," he demanded, pushing the double barreled gun closer to the man.

Greed chuckled, "Because, If you do you'll have to contend with them."

The Rebel leader motioned to the windows in each building, revealing several men on each side with guns pointed at the two of them.

"They have undying loyalty to me, and every mission is considered suicide."

"Fair enough," Fullmetal said. "But this isn't over."

"Ha, over? It's just getting started!" was the madman's reply.

"I'm taking the guns," the outlaw demanded suddenly.

"No, I think you'll be leaving them."

A warning shot rang out, the bullet piercing the ground right next to Fullmetal. Apparently the goons in the windows understood certain signals.

The outlaw cracked his neck and sat in the saddle of his bike, starting it up with his shot gun still aimed at Greed. He really wanted the guns - in fact, he almost needed them. And he hated to leave the tools behind, but there was no other way. His life was worth way more.

"You'll meet death one day, Fullmetal."

The blond grinned and stared into the round glasses.

"Maybe. But not today."

"Oh, but you will. And I'll personally introduce you."

Fullmetal shook his head and gazed to the windows. "Then why not have one of them kill me right here?"

Greed grinned. "Because, I want the satisfaction of doing it myself. After all, everyone wants something they don't have. Right?"

"Not everyone," the blond replied distantly.

The spikey-haired Rebel lowered his hands and spit as the outlaw took off, leaving tire tracks as he did a burnout and popped his signature wheelie. The smoke cleared, leaving Greed to a few coughs as he waved the gunmen away.

"That was too close," Fullmetal thought to himself as he found his way back to the cracked asphalt road that would lead him home. A small grin graced itself on his lips as he opened the shot gun barrel, revealing an empty chamber. Thankfully, Greed had fallen for his bluff at the end. He had a gut feeling that wasn't the last he would see of Greed, but one thing was for sure - his reputation definitely proceeded him; and not for the better.

"Damn thing wasn't even loaded...,"

He twisted the throttle and stuck the gun back in its holster as he gained speed, his mind wandering to Alphonse.

"I'm gonna wring that kid's neck when I get back."

The outlaw frowned as he ran his fingers across the grooves that Greed had carved into the metal of his bike.

"Just another scar."

~On Wings of Steel~

"What?" mumbled Al, rubbing his eyes as the loud engine woke him up. He had fallen asleep on the couch due to the lack of credible entertainment, but it didn't take long for realization to hit him.

"He's back."

The outlaw pulled into the garage and turned the engine off, remaining in the seat for a moment as he mulled things over.

"So, how'd it go?" the boy asked, getting up to walk over.

Fullmetal wasn't an idiot, and it didn't take long until his gaze met the missing gun.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?!" he scolded, getting up from the bike.

"I was just-," Alphonse fell silent, he knew exactly what the outlaw meant. The boy sighed as he watched the man walk over and grab the gun from the coffee table.

"I was almost killed because of your ignorant stupidity."

Fullmetal looked around, noticing the duct tape target and the many bullet holes.

"Shit...," Al mumbled, bracing for what was about to happen.

"You stole my gun and then thought it was ok to shoot up my damn wall? What the hell is wrong with you, you little bastard?!"

I was just-," Al tried again, cut off by the angry outlaw.

"You just what? Thought it was okay to do this shit? Have you ever even used a gun?"

"Yeah, I told you-,"

"Really?" the blond interrupted again, "Because judging by your shitty marksmanship, I'd say you've never even seen one!"

"I have!" Al cried, causing the heated conversation to pause for a moment.

"Really?" Fullmetal pried, taking a deep breath to calm down.

"Yes, really!"

"Then why did you miss the entire target?"

"Because I was standing all the way at the other end of the garage!"

The outlaw shook his head and folded his arms over his chest, staring down the problematic child.

"Show me."

"Show you what?"

"Where the hell you were standing."

Alphonse flinched and dropped his shoulders, gazing at the ground while making his way to where he had fired the gun. To Fullmetal's surprise and Al's embarrassment, the boy was barley ten feet from the target.

"There?" Fullmetal asked.

"Yeah...," admitted Al reluctantly.

"You've never used a gun before, have you?"

"I told you, I have...,"

"Maybe, but even if you did you sure couldn't hit anything," Fullmetal teased.

The boy looked up and balled his fists. "I can! And I did!" he snapped, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. "I killed him! I had to!" Alphonse choked up and roughly wiped his tears away, taking off and running out of the garage.

"Kid, wait!" Fullmetal yelled, watching as the boy disappeared out of sight. He stood there wondering what had just happened, wondering what Alphonse meant by that. The outlaw sighed and picked up the gun, turning it around and observing it. He knew that Alphonse was like anyone else living in this world, carrying around their fair share of secrets, but the boy was only ten years old and had already killed a man?

He really hated drama - that's exactly why he rode solo. If you knew yourself, then there are no unwelcomed surprises.

"Dammit kid."

The blond set the gun down and walked outside, looking around for the upset boy. Maybe there was more to Al than he thought?

Running his fingers through his hair, Fullmetal mounted his bike and started the engine.

"He can't run; it's nothing but wasteland out there."

He grinned and shook his head. "Then again, he's probably smarter than I give him credit for."

~On Wings of Steel~

Roy was hunched over a map, intensively studying it with his lieutenant at his side.

"Sir," Hawkeye spoke. "What exactly is your plan?"

Mustang traced his finger along the map, grinning once he found his destination.

"Here. Right here is the abandoned gas station I believe him to be hiding out in. It's located right along the old highway, with wasteland on either side for miles."

"And you're sure he's there, sir?"

"I would bet my life on it. It has a garage, gas, tools, and everything that son of a bitch needs to survive. Along side of that, his most recent activity hasn't been outside a hundred miles of this place."

"Which means it must be where he's returning to?" Riza finished.

"Exactly."

"You said you weren't going to ambush him there?"

"I wasn't going to, you're right... but a thought just hit me. What do you think of when I say 'gas station?'"

Hawkeye thought for a moment before replying. "Gasoline, Sir."

"Precisely."

Mustang grinned and pulled his ignition gloves over his hands, flexing his digits for added effect. There was no longer a flame inside the man's eye - instead it was a raging fire. And if you looked close enough, you could see that fire burning behind his eye patch too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After thinking, writing, editing, thinking, writing, and editing again... (Phew!) Chapter 4 is done! I was about to call it good when the first segment with Alphonse came to mind, so I added it in last second. Funny how things work!
> 
> I want to give a shout out to everyone who has favorite, followed, and reviewed. I mean thanks guys, you're the best! XD And yes, I'll be doing a shout out every time because I really do appreciate everyone. It's like what Lan Fan said,
> 
> "A king is no king without his people."
> 
> likewise, A writer is no writer without his readers XD
> 
> Drop a review to let me know what you think, or what you predict! Because I have so many ideas flooding my mind right now its not even funny. Well, I mean it would be if they could tell decent jokes... Wait, never mind. That's just the voices in my head, not my ideas. Hahaha!


	6. Chapter 6

A bright and massive body of flames were clearly visible in the distance, its orange and yellow hues complimented by the night sky. The explosion was loud, leaving the duo with a chill in their bones.

"Th-that was...," Al stammered in shock.

"Dammit...," Edward cursed, his eyes fixed upon the ruins of what he knew was now the remains of his old hideout.

"We need to go check it out!" cried Alphonse suddenly, quickly getting up and running over to the motorcycle. "We need to see what happened!"

"No, kid."

"But...,"

Al's words fell short. There was nothing to say - what could he say?

"They must have put two and two together...," Edward mumbled to himself, folding his arms. Alphonse glanced over at him, curious,

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that I stayed there too long. I usually change hideouts every so often - you know, to keep them guessing. I should have left sooner."

"So they found you?" Al wondered.

"Yeah, they must have pinpointed where I would most likely return to. I bet he's been tracking my movements this whole time."

"Who's he?"

At this Edward snorted in disgust, "That bastard Mustang," he answered.

Al thought for a moment before a light bulb lit up in his mind and he exclaimed, "Oh, the guy who can control the fires of hell?"

"Yeah, him."

A silence hung in the air for a while as the duo stared out into the flame, watching it flicker in the starlight.

"You don't seem upset," noted Alphonse quietly, unsure at the outlaw's strange calmness. Fullmetal smirked,

"Upset, no. Pissed? Yeah."

"Is there a difference?" the boy asked innocently.

With a small chuckle Edward looked down at his follower. "I guess not. I'm just used to it, I guess. In this life, you can never expect anything to last for long."

Al slowly nodded and understood. He was no stranger to that summary - take his parents, for example. He expected them to be around forever - like any naïve child would - instead of meeting the gruesome end they did. And with the way that Edward lived, along with the few things he'd managed to see so far... it made sense.

"I'm still here," Al softly spoke, looking up at the outlaw.

"Yeah, you are," Fullmetal agreed, "Although I never expected to have to babysit a kid."

Alphonse playfully slugged Edward's arm, letting out a yelp as he realized it was the arm made of metal and waved in the air as if it would stop the stinging.

"Damn that hurts!" he exclaimed.

Fullmetal laughed to himself, shaking his head in amusement.

"I told you it came in handy."

"Yeah, no kidding."

The two shared a small laugh despite the destruction of the gas station, neither of them really caring where they would go next. They were two people who didn't really have a home, just an open road in front of them... and maybe, just maybe, that was the way they wanted it to be.

"Why did you want to come with me so badly?" Ed wondered suddenly, looking to the red-hoodied boy.

"Because you're badass," Al replied with a grin.

"I'm serious," said Fullmetal, frowning slightly.

Alphonse's grin faded and he took a deep breath, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his worn-out jacket. He didn't really know how to describe it.

"I guess...," he tried, "I guess it's because I didn't see you as an outlaw, or a bad guy, or anything bad, really. I just, I don't know...,"

"What do you see me as, then?" Ed questioned, curious on how this ten year old ended up next to him. Their first meeting, after all, was when he put his shotgun to the boy's head. What was there to see in that other than bad qualities?

Al looked up at him with a soft smile.

"A big brother."

~On Wings of Steel~

"Something's wrong," Mustang finally grunted after staring into the flames for quite some time.

"What is, Sir?" Hawkeye asked.

"They weren't in there. He wasn't in there."

"Are you sure?"

Roy sighed heavily in frustration and looked around. The Fullmetal had no idea they were coming, and he had blown the gas station up as soon as he had gotten there. That meant he must have been out when they arrived.

"Yeah, I'm sure," the rugged soldier replied. "But this was definitely where he was hiding out; look at the tire marks coming from the garage."

Riza looked and, sure enough, on the asphalt that lead into the garage were tire marks from a motorcycle. Despite the outlaw trying to stay under radar, it was apparent that some things never changed.

"Seems careless to me," the Lieutenant stated after observing the evidence.

"Yeah, but this is the Fullmetal. There is only a handful of people who have the balls to track him down. Guess he thinks he has the breathing room - or, he doesn't really give a shit," Roy guessed.

"So, you're sure he wasn't in there?"

Mustang nodded and walked closer to the burning building. "Yeah, take a look," he said, pointing into the burning garage. Despite being engulfed in flames, you could see each individual object within it.

"No bike."

"You're right," Hawkeye agreed.

"And come to think of it, why did he leave the door open?" the eye-patched man questioned after walking around and actually looking at the garage - something he probably should have done before just blowing the place sky high.

Mustang thought it over and sighed, grunting as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Dammit!" he cursed. "I should have slowed down for a second! We could have set up an ambush instead of letting that asshole know we're here!"

A small and subtle grin graced Hawkeye's lips. She had noticed right away that the garage door had been open and the bike was absent, but she felt she would have been out of place to oppose her superior's plan. Instead, she decided to let him carry out his intentions despite them being clouded by bloodlust and determination. It was, after all, the only way he'd ever learn.

"Should we come back and look at what remains in the morning, Sir?"

Roy tugged on his bangs and nodded. "Yeah... yeah, that sounds like a good idea. He's probably long gone by now."

Riza smiled and escorted her superior back to the car, watching as he kept mentally beating himself up.

"You know Sir, it would help if you slowed down from time to time," she advised.

Roy grinned in return and glanced over to his subordinate. "You're probably right, Lieutenant."

There was a minute of silence before Hawkeye inquired curiously,

"Are you okay? You seem pretty calm given the situation."

Mustang climbed into the driver's seat of the and chuckled.

"That's because I just realized that If I'm gonna kill him, I don't want his body burnt beyond recognition. I want him identifiable so that no doubt can shroud my victory."

Riza nodded, her heart calmer now that he had come to a more solid conclusion on what he desired. Besides, she had thought that very thing from the beginning.

"It was a valiant attempt anyways, Sir."

Mustang started the car and put it in gear.

"Lets be honest, I just avoided a big ass bullet."

"Agreed, Sir," Hawkeye replied with a small smile.

~On Wings of Steel~

The night reined during its natural course, stars flickering and littering the black and purple sky with beauty. The vast wasteland had cooled down to chilling temperatures, leaving anyone outside seeking warmth. With the gas station gone, the Fullmetal decided that there was only one place they could grab supplies from - a place that would be safe for now. With the decision made, the duo jumped on Fullmetal's motorcycle and began their journey into the chilling night.

The outlaw, however, was completely unprepared for the obstacle that would present itself at dawn.

"Why are we doing this again?" complained Alphonse as he continued pushing, his little legs tired from the last several hours of labor.

"I'm not leaving it behind," was the sharp and irritated reply.

Alphonse heaved a heavy sigh and continued pushing on the right side of the motorcycle's handle bar, Edward on the opposite side.

"We can always come back for it," the boy offered hopefully.

"No."

They fell silent for a bit while slowly pushing the useless bike, leaving them to wish that they had even just a single gallon of gas. Between Greed wanting to kill him, Mustang blowing up his base, and the lack of necessary supplies... it was just their luck that something like this would happen.

"We're not far," Edward reassured, pausing and wiping the sweat off his forehead. Morning had already broke and they had been laboring since the sunrise. A small break was definitely in order.

"That's what you said hours ago...!" Al reminded as he collapsed onto the hard ground, his legs throbbing. "I wish we had some water...,"

"We'll get some when we get there," the outlaw said, sitting down on the seat of his bike.

"But I'm gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die, kid."

Alphonse fell flat on his back with his arms and legs sprawled out, leaving his tongue to hang for added affect.

"Yeah, I can already feel my soul leaving my body."

Edward chuckled and watch the dramatic theatrics with slight amusement.

"It was nice knowing you."

Al frowned and sat up, "That's it? That's all you'd say if I actually died?"

"Well, you're not going to die are you?"

"I mean theoretically."

"Theory is a pile of shit in this world, remember that," Ed informed with folded arms.

"But If I was to die, what would you say?"

The outlaw thought for a moment and scratched his chin.

"Well, I would have shot you sooner if I'd known you would die this soon."

Al frowned and picked up a nearby rock, playfully throwing it at the man. "That's not funny!" he cried.

Fullmetal deflected the projectile with a grin, feeling a sense of accomplishment after getting the boy riled up.

"You asked!" he chuckled back.

"Still, that's cold hearted," Al pouted, folding his arms in protest. He sighed,

"Why don't you want to just leave the bike? We can come back for it or you can just get a new one."

"Because it's the one thing that hasn't left, or been destroyed, or been taken, or lost. It's like... a talisman of good luck, or something," Ed answered.

"Well I think its good luck has finally gone to shit...," Al grunted, obviously referencing the lack of gas.

The red-coated outlaw suppressed a laugh and gripped the handle bars tighter as memories came flooding back to him. This bike had gotten him out of serious trouble - and to be honest, it was probably his key to surviving all this time. His secret to cheating death.

"I'm gonna make sure I don't get attached to something so big...," the boy concluded, glancing up at the elder.

Edward got off the bike and stretched, grabbing the left handle bar once more.

"We should keep moving."

Alphonse stood up and gripped his side of the motorcycle, taking a deep breath as they began to push. It wasn't all that heavy, but it was still a lot of work after endless hours and miles on end.

The moons continued their ascent into the vibrant blue sky as morning grew into afternoon. The large planet sat on the horizon as its ring slowly turned, leaving the duo with something to watch and occupy their minds while they trudged along through the desert for several more tiring hours. The diner wasn't much further, had they been riding - but at this pace? It was still gonna be a while.

"So, why does that Mustang guy want to get you so bad?" Al questioned.

Ed took a moment to ponder before responding. When he did, it was with a careless tone.

"Because I do what I need to survive, and if that means screwing over the damned military than so be it. He obviously doesn't like that I've gotten away with it for so long."

"So he wants to kill you?"

Ed shrugged, "Yeah, pretty much."

"So why-," Al started, his curious mind thinking faster than he could get answers. But something caught his attention, something big enough to suppress the question.

"What?" Fullmetal pried, turning around and looking in the direction Alphonse was staring. His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat.

"Oh shit...,"

They hadn't noticed it, but behind them was a gigantic dust storm rolling in, and it was closing in - fast. Neither of them could see the bright blue sky or the large moons; everything behind them was engulfed in a brown and thick dust.

"What do we do?" asked Al nervously, clearly shaken up at the upcoming storm.

The outlaw thought for a moment as he stared into the brown. From the looks of it they were shit out of luck.

"We can't outrun it... so...,"

Edward grabbed the bike and turned it to where its side was facing the oncoming storm. This way, they would at least have some shelter from the driving winds.

"At least we'll have some sort of protection...," mumbled Fullmetal as he watched the dust storm close in on them.

"That's not a whole lot...," Alphonse doubted as he observed the storm.

"Its better than nothing."

"Yeah. If it works... then I take back what I said about its good luck being gone."

The wind began to pick up and blow harder as the massive dust cluster closed in on the duo. The two decided to get behind the motorcycle in attempt to block some of the harsh wind. It wouldn't be long now.

"Stay down," Ed directed, covering his face with his tattered cloak.

Al nodded and did the same, bracing for the impact. If there was one thing about the wastelands, it was that these dust storms will roll in without warning and hit you like a truck. They were full of danger and void of mercy.

The wind began blowing hard as the storm hit, engulfing the two of them. They stayed crouched behind the bike, relieved that it was, surprisingly, helping in some capacity.

"Just stay down!" Ed called out, his voice drowned out by the vigorous wind.

It felt like a bunch of sandpaper was being scraped against their skin and their lungs began to fill with dirt, giving them coughing fits. It shouldn't be long before it passed and they could continue on their way - but nothing was ever that simple.

Fullmetal froze, his eyes widening despite the harsh winds. His heart collapsed and fell through to his stomach, causing him to lose his breath. He wasn't afraid of anything - not death or pain or hurt or guns or bullets or torture. But this? Anyone would be insane not to fear what was coming.

Engines. The sound of engines. They were Storm Riders - people who lived by no morals whatsoever. They had no conscience and no heart, doing the most vile things a human being could take part in as they used the dust storms to hunt their victims. They were way worse than any outlaw.

The engine roars grew closer and closer until the vehicles came into view. There were two make shift cars that looked like they were put together from scrap metal and spare parts, each one being covered in spikes, bones, and skulls of their victims. Along with the two vehicles was a single semi truck, its grill adorned with spikes and bones as well. The large truck was pulling a flatbed trailer.

"Shit!" Edward cursed as he frantically reached for the shot gun. But it was too late. One of the cars managed to hook a tow cable to his bike so that it could be pulled onto the trailer. The horrific cars kept circling around him and Alphonse, the wicked laughs even louder than the rushing wind. And then the outlaw got one terrifying thought.

"Al...,"

"Alphonse!" cried Fullmetal, desperately looking around for the boy. He couldn't let them take him. He couldn't those monsters do what they wanted with him. He knew what the boy would become, what they would make him into. Those sick bastards could never keep their pants on, and they always enjoyed giving people a slow death. The kid was only ten years old!

"Edward!" came a shriek from the wind, causing the outlaw to freeze and try to pinpoint the location.

"Al!" he cried back, looking around helplessly. But to his despair, the engine noises began to distance as the cars and truck made off with both his bike and Alphonse.

"No! Dammit no!" the outlaw cried as the dust cleared just enough for him to tell which direction they were going. They struck quick and fast, obviously too good at what they do.

With shaky hands, the Fullmetal took off in a sprint to follow the trail of dust that the convoy left behind. He was going to get Al back. He had to.

~On Wings of Steel~

"Sir!" addressed a man as he knelt down on one knee.

"What is it?" demanded a voice.

"Reports have come in that the gas station we tracked the Fullmetal back to was blown up!"

"What?!"

"We don't know how or why, Sir! We await your command."

The figure huffed and stood up from his chair, eyeing the man through sunglasses that shone in the light.

"Send a team to investigate and see why the hell that bastard blew up his own hideout," he ordered.

"Yes Sir! Mr. Greed Sir!" the man announced, getting up and leaving in a hurry.

"What game are you playing, Fullmetal?" Greed wondered aloud. He flashed his sharp-toothed grin in response, chuckling.

"Whatever it is... you can't win. You can't cheat death forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my friends! I present to you Chapter six! I know it was a later update than usual, life got busy and hectic and It took me a bit to write and edit all this. In times like these, I'm really happy to have my wonderful sister helping me to beta and adjust all this, she's amazing XD 
> 
> If you want to check out any of her works, her pen name is AiroctivElnyn on Fanfiction.net she's an amazing writer! Not just cause she's my sister :)
> 
> I had, like, MAJOR writers block on this chapter, so a dust storm here in Arizona ended up saving my butt instead of giving me Valley Fever, hahaha! So I hope you all enjoyed it.
> 
> As always and forever, I want to sincerely thank everyone who has favorited, followed, and or reviewed. I love you guys from the bottom of my heart and herby send you a giant hug! XD
> 
> Whelp! Time to see if I can manage to pull Alphonse out of this mess I created! See you guys in the next chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

The moons slowly continued their decent in the vibrant blue sky, growing closer to the horizon with every passing minute. The light that reflected off their surface began to dim as well, creating a rather unique nighttime.

"Sir," Riza spoke up, watching as Mustang's black orbs were fixed intently on the old and worn road. They had hopped in a car and took off from the Capitol, heading straight for the abandoned gas station Roy had mentioned earlier.

"What is it?" the eyepatched superior demanded, anger and determination laced in his voice.

"Well, I was wondering why it is you're so set on catching the Fullmetal. There are plenty of other outlaws out there," Riza inquired gently.

Roy Mustang kept his grip on the wheel as the car bounced now and again from potholes and wear and tear on the beaten asphalt.

"Because, Lieutenant," he explained, "there is no other outlaw like the Fullmetal. He's a legend, and some say he's immortal. If I can kill the bastard, then there is no way I could be denied presidency of this entire country. There is a lot of talking going on back at the Capitol, and I know of a few higher-ups that are starting to sweat. With Fullmetal dead, They'd be begging me to take control."

"You don't actually believe he's immortal, do you?" asked Hawkeye.

Her black-haired superior smirked, "No, I don't - everyone is mortal whether they like it or not. But he's evaded death so many times that some are starting to question."

"And you?"

"I believe all it will take is a bullet to his skull. And then... then I'll be know as the man who killed a legend."

Riza nodded and shifted her gaze out the side window, watching as the blank wasteland seemingly stood still.

"You know that you're probably not the only one who wants to kill him for status," she stated.

Mustang nodded, glancing over to his subordinate.

"Yeah, but I'll be the one to actually pull it off."

"I hope you're right, Sir...," she whispered to herself.

~On Wings of Steel~

The outlaw's bike rumbled throughout the wasteland as he casually rode down the old highway, looking around for Alphonse. He was getting fed up with this crap, and he hated babysitting the brat. It was so much simpler on his own. But for some reason, the boy evoked feelings inside of him - feelings that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was strange, but somehow Al brought about the compassion that was buried so deep inside himself. It brought out the sense of protection, the feeling of not willing to let anything happen to the boy. In a way, he was like a little brother to him.

"Hmph," Fullmetal grunted to himself while shaking his head. "I'll be damned if I start becoming soft."

The outlaw kept on riding, observing the dying moons as darkness slowly crept in. He had to find the boy, sooner rather than later.

Luckily it was sooner. On the side of the old beaten road sat a boy in a red hoodie, throwing rocks at some imaginary object. Al hadn't gotten far, but he was still quite a distance from the gas station - leaving the outlaw slightly amazed at the boy's speed.

The bike rolled to a stop, the engine dying.

"Hey kid."

Al remained silent.

"It's getting dark out. We need to head back," Fullmetal tried again.

Al sighed and avoided eye contact.

"Then go back, I don't really care," he muttered irritably.

The outlaw stared at the boy, watching as rocks were thrown at nothing. He should just leave the kid and get back. Al didn't determine what he did or didn't do - yet, he felt obligated to stay.

"Listen," he attempted to sound less... abrasive for once, getting off the motorcycle and walking over to the boy. "I-I'm sorry if I, you know... was maybe a little rude back there. I didn't mean to upset you or anything."

Alphonse quit throwing rocks and grabbed his knees, pulling them up to his chest as he stared away from the outlaw and out at the horizon.

"I didn't know you had to shoot anyone, I mean-,"

"You don't know anything," Al sharply interrupted, his voice spewing anger.

Fullmetal fell silent as he sat next to the boy, watching as the wind ruffled his brownish-blonde hair. He wasn't good at this, he wasn't good with kids. He had been alone all his life, and alone he decided to stay - well, at least until Alphonse came into the picture that is. But what was he supposed to do? He was an outlaw that killed without mercy and did what he wanted, a man who lived by nobody's rules and was governed by nothing. And yet, amongst all that, this boy managed to pull him in.

"Edward...," he said quietly.

"What?" Al asked, confused at the random name.

"My name. You asked me what it was, remember?"

"So what?" Alphonse shot back.

"Well, its Edward - my name."

The boy couldn't help a small grin as he loosened his grip on his knees. "That's a cool name... I guess."

"Eh, I prefer Fullmetal. It's more...," the outlaw paused for a lack of better words.

"Badass?" Al offered.

"Yeah," Edward grinned. "Something like that."

"I thought you said you never told anyone your name?" the younger of the two asked, shifting his position slightly.

Fullmetal nodded and looked out at the dry desert. "You're right - I never have. Not until now."

Al looked over at the blond, observing his rough exterior and the scar on his right cheek. If someone were to see him coming at them, with the metal limbs and intimidating face and everything, they'd be sure to piss their pants. But on the inside, it seemed that there was more to him than meets the eye.

"Why?" Alphonse asked.

"Why what?"

"Why did you tell me your name?"

Edward shrugged casually. "I guess because you told me a little about your past, I felt like I should tell you something about me - you know, equivalent exchange."

"Yeah," Al agreed. "By the way, how come you don't use your alchemy more often? Like when you raised that earth wall back when you found me - it's so cool."

Fullmetal sighed and flexed his metal digits, gazing at them with painful memories swimming in his mind.

"It's a long story, kid."

"Short version?" Al offered hopefully.

Edward grinned at the boy's persistence; that's one habit that will die hard, he was certain.

"Well, when I was a kid... about your age I guess...," Fullmetal paused and took a deep breath. How was he supposed to sum things up without giving his life's story?

"I never had parents," the outlaw began again. "So I had to learn everything the hard way - and on my own. Well...one day... some shit went down and I lost my arm and leg."

"Shit went down? That's all I get?" Al teased.

Edward chuckled softly, "Yep, that's all you get. Maybe I'll tell you one day."

"Fine." Al pouted.

"Anyways, I was about your age when it happened. So, a friend of mine who happened to be a mechanic designed this metal arm and leg for me. She was pretty much a genius."

"I bet," Al agreed. "I mean, I've never seen anything like it. You have to be the only person in the world who has a metal arm and leg."

Edward gave a faint smile. "Yeah, it's a one of a kind."

"I want to meet her one day," Al concluded, imagining how cool she must be.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you kid, but she's gone."

"Oh, like she left? Or-,"

"No, she died a long time ago...," Fullmetal cut in, staring wistfully into his metal arm as if to see her again.

"Oh... I'm sorry...," said Al quietly.

"Nah, it's okay. Anyways, do you know how alchemy works?" Fullmetal quizzed the boy, quickly setting aside the painful memory.

Alphonse nodded, a smile gracing his lips. "Yeah, I know how it works. Pretty good at it too."

"You can perform alchemy?" asked Edward in surprise. Al smiled proudly,

"Yup!"

"Well, then this will make more sense than I hoped. You see, when you draw the circle of a transmutation circle it directs the flow of energy. That circle is only activated when two points of energy comes in contact with it."

"Your hands?" Al guessed.

"Yes," Fullmetal confirmed. "And what makes them energy points is the heat and energy of your living body and blood. But, as you can tell, I only have one flesh arm left. Therefore I can't use traditional alchemy anymore."

"Can't you use you're feet?" Alphonse wondered, his interest piqued.

"No, and here's why," Edward said as he pointed to the ring finger on his left hand. "The vein right here runs straight to your heart. There is something special about your hands, something that can activate the energy within the circle and within the Earth. Your feet aren't the same, I've tried."

"Oh," Al sighed.

"So, in order to use alchemy, I have to use less traditional methods. I learned it a long time ago, but the short version is that I use the life within me to perform alchemy instead of the energy inside the Earth. So every time I do alchemy, it takes away a part of my life. I'm not quite sure how much though - could be moments, days, weeks, years even. I'm not really sure."

"Why would you use it then?" questioned Alphonse.

"Because," Fullmetal began. "It comes in handy when I have to use it. I try not to though."

The two fell silent for a while as the darkness fully set in, stars scattered all over the night sky. They continued to stare into the dark wasteland, unconcerned about anything or anyone. It was as if the entire world disappeared, leaving the two of them on the side of the road.

"I bet you want to know my story," Al guessed.

"You don't have to," Ed countered.

"Nah, its cool. Equivalent exchange, right? You told me your story, now I tell you mine."

"Yeah, something like that," the outlaw agreed.

Alphonse brought his knees back to his chest, resting his head on them. Fullmetal remained silent, waiting for the boy to speak in his own time.

"It was two years ago, when I was eight. My parents and I were living in the slums, trying to do all we could to survive. Well, one night...," Alphonse choked up for a moment, fighting the coming tears. He wasn't as composed as Edward, and it was still fresh in his mind.

"One night...,"

(Two Years Ago)

"Alphonse!" a voice whispered frantically, waking the small boy up.

"Wh-what?" Al asked, rubbing his eyes as he awoke. He sat up and yawned - it was still the dead of night.

"Listen son, listen to me," the man put a revolver in the boy's hand, looking him in the eyes. "I need you to hide in the closet, okay?"

"D-dad?" Al asked, looking down at the gun, then back to his father, eyes wide. "What-what's wrong?"

"It's okay Al. Someone's in the house - I'm just gonna scare them off. They're probably just looking for some food."

"Dad-,"

"No, I need you to hide. Everything's going to be okay, I promise. The gun is just for safety, alright?"

Alphonse nodded as his father quickly guided him to the closet, closing the door and leaving the boy in the dark. It all happened so fast - and on top of that he was still waking up.

"Dad...," Al whispered as he gripped the gun, tears now beginning to stream down his cheeks. Was this really happening? 

Silence. Silence was all he could hear - or rather, not hear. No noise, no nothing. Every second felt like an hour, and every minute felt like an eternity. He hoped and prayed his parents were okay, that his dad would protect him and his mother. But he couldn't hear anything, so was that good? Or bad? It wasn't unheard of to have break-ins within the slum's community. Everyone wanted something, whether it was food or possessions. And they were willing to do anything to get it.

(((())))

Al paused as he buried his head between his knees, letting out muffled sobs.

"Listen, you don't have to continue." Edward reassured, imagining the helplessness Al must have been feeling.

Alphonse looked up with red eyes, wiping away the tears while slowly shaking his head.

"N-nah. I'm all good." he finally responded. "I'm okay..."

Fullmetal softly nodded, listening as the boy continued his story.

(((())))

Thump! Thump!

That was the first noise the boy was greeted with... a loud and repetitive thumping. As he listened he counted five of them, all distinctively hard - but after a brief pause, the strange and alarming noise began again. Alphonse tried to stay calm and remain in the closet, but it was easier said than done. Unable to bear the curiosity and anguish, he cracked the closet door and peered out.

The coast was clear.

With a deep breath Alphonse exited the closet and entered his room, proceeding to walk though the doorway. They lived in a small, run-down house, so there wasn't many places someone could hide. 

Walking through the hallway with the gun in hand, Alphonse made his way into the small living room and was greeted with the horror of his life. On the cracked wooden floors lay his mom and dad, dead and bleeding. Over top one of them stood a man with a butcher's knife. He had already cut the head and limbs off his father, piling them in the corner. The killer was now beginning to dice the torso.

All Alphonse could do was stand in complete shock, tears paving their way down his cheeks. The murderer was unaware of the traumatized boy, completely indulged in the chopping of human beings. Al stood and covered his mouth, watching as his father's torso was cut to pieces.

It was a sight straight out of hell.

The chopping, however, came to a stop as the killer noticed the boy's presence. 

"Ah, another one!" the butcher cried in a creepily cheery voice, swiveling around to eye the young boy.

"It's my lucky day!" the killer grinned while raising the butcher knife, "I get to chop a kid!"

Alphonse let out a loud squeal as the man ran towards him, the butcher knife flailing with excitement. Before he could reach Al, however, a loud bang was sent off; causing the killer to stop in his tracks.

The boy stood with tear filled eyes as smoke rose from the barrel of the gun that trembled in his hands.

"D-damn you kid...," the man cursed, gripping his bleeding stomach as he collapse to the floor.

"M-mom... D-dad...," Al stuttered, his gaze shifting to the butcher knife on the floor.

(((())))

"And on the butcher's knife was the inscription: "Barry The Chopper," finished Alphonse, his head now buried between his knees. All the boy could do was cry and sob, leaving Fullmetal to watch with a feeling emptiness.

The two sat there, time seemingly frozen as silence settled in. What could he do? What could Al do? They were nothing but two people surviving the cruel conditions of living in this world. It's as if pain became a part of life, a part of who you are and who you become.

Pain defines you, it makes you who you are. It either hardens your heart or softens it. There is no such thing as living, just surviving. Hurt becomes a part of you and softer emotions get buried deep inside to protect from future cruelties.

Fullmetal couldn't help feeling sorry for the boy, wanting to help him somehow. But before Edward could say anything, however, a large explosion rang out in the distance - and it wasn't hard at all to see fire and smoke billowing into the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! Backstory!
> 
> Okay, so I just wanted to mention real fast that I do know how alchemy works in the canonical FMA universe. HOWEVER! I took it and made slight changes, taking the theory and application and tweaking it to fit this specific AU and character cast. So yeah, I didn't get the whole concept wrong, just changed it a bit XD 
> 
> Also, since this is a major backstory chapter, I figured I'd share how this AU even came to me. So I hope you don't mind, kinda a backstory on the story. Haha :)
> 
> I was in the car, and one of my favorite songs came on the radio: "Wanted Dead or Alive" by Bon Jovi. As I was listening to the lyrics "On a steel horse I ride." and the entire theme of the song, I thought to myself:
> 
> "Hey! Wouldn't it be cool to make a complete steampunk story where a guy LITERALLY rides on a steel mechanical horse instead of a motorcycle, running from the law and what not."
> 
> Well, from there I applied the idea to FMA and tweaked it to where it was Edward on a motorcycle (instead of a steampunk steed) in a wasteland like in the "Mad Max" movies or the video game "RAGE"
> 
> Then, as I was writing the very first draft, I thought to myself: "Hey! Edward is turning out to be similar to Daryl from "The Walking Dead." And at that moment I remembered Daryl's angel wing jacket.
> 
> From there I decided to etch the wings on Ed's motorcycle and make the saying: "On wings of steel I ride." Mixing "On a steel horse I ride" and angel wings.
> 
> So yeah, there you have it. The backstory of my story XD
> 
> I want to thank everyone who has favorited, followed, and or reviewed. It truly makes me so happy to hear feedback, compliments, and constructive criticism. You guys are the best!


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